


Drinking With The Trinity

by Dragon_Falls



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Alvis gets bullied, Drinking, Gen, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Falls/pseuds/Dragon_Falls
Summary: Dickson, Lorithia and Alvis meet up to celebrate Zanza's new vessel. It's not much of a celebration given that they don't particularly like each other, but there is a lot of wine involved. And wine always makes things better - possibly not for Alvis though.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Drinking With The Trinity

Shooting stars blossomed in golden clusters across the winter sky over Eryth Sea – the view perfectly mirrored in the glassy water below. The chill of the air contributed to the show, almost, at times, seeming to freeze the starlight in place. Watching from the darkness of Prison Island, there was no ether light to interfere with the display.

Lorithia sighed, brushing her hair behind her shoulder and flexing her back just enough to make her plump breasts stick out _just right_. At the same time, she smiled, parting her lips slightly to allow her breath to steam the air. She gazed forward, focusing to make sure it was the type of gaze that made it seem as if she was drinking in the visage. Because men found her attractive when she looked like this.

“The view is beautiful – one might even say romantic… what do you think, Alvis?” She tilted her head just enough to let the golden light shine across her face, picking out the shimmering cosmetics she’d applied earlier.

Alvis stood close to the chain fence, seemingly watching the light cascading over the water below intermingling with the rainbow shadows from the transporters on the hovering reefs. He had the same blank expression Lorithia was used to. And that almost deadened look to his eyes. They reflected the golden show so brilliantly that they could have been made of glass.

“Falling stars are rare over Eryth Sea,” he replied. “Some consider it romantic. It perhaps depends on who you are with.”

Lorithia didn’t let her expression change. Instead, she tilted her head in _that_ way, smiling with the long-practiced smile. She sidled closer until her arm brushed against his. “Oh?”

Alvis pivoted away, lightly stepping back from the fence as he placed a hand on his hip. Even without his face directly in the golden light anymore, Lorithia had the uncanny feeling that the stars were still reflected in his eyes as he smiled. “Dickson will be here soon. If your intent is romance then I will leave the two of you alone to discuss your feelings.”

It was a good job he had stepped back. Otherwise Lorithia would have hurled him and his glassy eyes over the fence to the sea below. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” she asked. “Such a disgusting thing to say. I’m afraid your humour and personality are still lacking.”

“I was merely following the conversation along its most likely path. Or were you insinuating that the romance was between you and I?”

Bastard.

She laughed. “Do not flatter yourself. I was simply admiring the view, for what it's worth.”

She really didn’t have any sexual interest in him. But she’d feel better knowing he was under her thumb. And if she had to do that by moaning his name and feigning passion then that was fine. Once men tasted her, they obeyed her.

Unfortunately, Alvis had all the passion of a shin newt. Even after thousands of years, Lorithia hadn’t figured out a way of getting him to lie on his back so she could get to work on him.

“Am I interrupting a lovers’ tiff?” The rough voice bellowed with laughter through the darkness. “Lorithia, I’m delighted to see you pining for a male Homs, but let's be realistic here; I think that one might be a eunuch. I’m happy to give you a warm Homs welcome if you want one though.”

“Urgh…” Lorithia pressed her hand against her mouth in disgust.

“Good evening, Dickson,” said Alvis.

Even without turning to look at Dickson, Lorithia could perfectly picture the irritating, smug grin bearing yellow teeth and yeasty breath. Already the aroma of sweat was creeping through the air. She folded her arms across her chest. “The only welcome a forward Homs would have from me is my heel in his throat.”

“Worst ways to go I’m sure, eh Alvis?”

“Since all of us are immortal I fail to understand the question,” said Alvis. “Is there a reason you called us out here?”

“I thought, as comrades, we should celebrate. I bought the good stuff too.” Dickson swung the large gun and backpack from his shoulder. Grunting, he rummaged through the bag before revealing the dark red bottle – twice the size of a normal bottle. The label was musty and faded but Lorithia could understand enough letters to realize the origin of the beverage. Oh? Dickson had done good.

“Giants’ wine?” she said. “And one made by Arglas' winemaker himself. I admit, you have some taste in beverages.”

“I've got a little stash hidden with more bottles. White and red. But this red is one of the best.”

“A stash of wine? Where?”

“As if I'd tell you.”

Lorithia tutted as she reached to take the bottle but Dickson snapped it back out of reach. “Inside,” he said, nodding towards the dark doors of the castle.

“Is that appropriate? You want to drink wine while our lord remains imprisoned here?”

“Lord Zanza is sleeping, but I think tonight he would want us to party where he can hear us. He has chosen the new vessel. He-”

“I am aware,” said Alvis. “Zanza drained the life from a group of Homs explorers on Valak Mountain, but left one alive. A small boy. However, Zanza still must regain his strength before he exerts control over the new vessel. It will be around fourteen years before he awakens. By then, the vessel will have matured.”

Lorithia looked between Dickson and Alvis. “Lord Zanza has chosen a vessel? And why was I left out of this?”

Alvis was watching the falling stars again, the golden light reflecting in his silver eyes. “I was planning to bring it up myself tonight, but it seems this is the reason Dickson came by. Correct, Dickson?”

“Tch. Tipped off by a vision were you?” said Dickson.

“I have other means, too.”

“Why a boy?” said Lorithia. “How young are we talking?”

“A child. Little blond shrimp,” said Dickson. “But we'll mold him into a vessel worthy of Lord Zanza. Let's talk inside. I don't think anyone will see us out here, but better safe than sorry. Alvis, that means you too. Stop stargazing and get moving.”

“Stargazing is an incorrect term,” said Alvis. “They aren't real stars-”

“I don't give a shit about your mumbo jumbo. Give me a hand with the doors.”

********

No one had set foot inside Prison's Island's castle for thousands of years. The High Entia had tried to break inside; and when that had failed, they had tried to destroy the building itself. Of course, they had failed at that too. Entry to Zanza's disciples, however, was permitted. The building recognized them as they placed their hands on the ancient doors. There was no dust, crumbling stone, or musty ebbs of age on the interior. Zanza was alive. And his soul would keep the castle alive too. But the ether gathered inside had given rise to monsters; distorted shades of Bionis lifeforms that stared at the intruders.

Dickson clapped his hands several times. “Move out!” he yelled. “The party isn't for you tonight.” The creatures scattered, disappearing into the shadows.

Lorithia smiled as she snapped her fingers. “Illumination,” she called. The power still enthralled her – even after all of these years. A single command was enough to bring the blue ether lanterns to life. The light whispered across the black stonework. The entire building was made of oil stone, a material that neither the Homs nor the High Entia had been able to tame as yet. Nothing was more resilient.

“Home sweet home,” said Dickson. “It's a shame the era of the giants had to end. No one built things as big or as grand. You High Entia may think your bright little city is the height of technology, but you don't have a sense for atmosphere.”

“This place has a certain charm and nostalgia,” said Lorithia. “But I am fond of the convenience of High Entia technology. And we can use it to build an even grander palace for Lord Zanza.”

“The High Entia need to all go back to being telethia. They're getting too big for their boots. Thinking they can restrain Lord Zanza and all... I think we just reset the lot.”

“But the technology they have developed-”

“Zanza does not desire for any of the beings of Bionis to advance,” said Alvis. “The technology is unnecessary to him.”

“I will listen to Lord Zanza's view on that – not either of yours,” said Lorithia. “So, where are we to enjoy this wine?”

“Banquet hall, of course,” said Dickson.

The three of them moved through the entry hall. The steps were made for giants, but Zanza had also requested that a ramp be made to assist his smaller subjects – mainly Lorithia and Alvis. She drew alongside the Divine Seer. “Pleased to be home, Alvis?”

“It is not my home.”

“Where did you come from? Where did Lord Zanza find you?”

“Lord Zanza says he made him,” said Dickson. “He also made you and me.”

“I am merely curious to know more about Lord Zanza's favourite _pet_.”

“What she is saying, Alvis, is that she is jealous and hates you.”

“It makes no difference to me,” said Alvis. “But I do find the behaviour intriguing to observe.”

“And what does _that_ mean?” snapped Lorithia.

“Hey – this is supposed to be a celebration! Not a sniping match!” said Dickson. “This is why I hang out with the Homs. They know how to party.” He frowned as they reached the banquet hall – which seemed to be a favourite hangout for the monsters. He booted the nearest obart. “Gerrout! The lot of you stinky bastards! I’ve told you before – banquet hall and kitchen are off limits!”

“Those obart have a disgusting smell to them,” said Lorithia as she waved the air in front of her face. “Do we really need to let them stay in the castle?”

“Yes. Personal army if ever we need them,” said Dickson. He stood by the nearest chair. His head only just reached to the seat. “It's bigger than I remember. Homs are so short. Now I know how the two of you felt whenever we came here with Lord Zanza. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Because it was several lifetimes ago, to be precise,” said Alvis.

“Smart ass.”

Lorithia jumped onto a dining chair, using her wings to help her, and then made her way to the table. Dickson followed her – albeit significantly less gracefully. He grunted as he struggled to climb onto the table from the chair. “Oi, Alvis! Give me a hand.”

Alvis obliged him with a shove and then climbed up behind him – effortlessly. Lorithia watched him carefully. Zanza awarded all of them some power – little perks made possible by controlling small amounts of ether. Lorithia could fly more easily, reverse any ageing, and protect herself from monsters. Alvis had similar abilities, but absolutely everything he did, he made look easy.

Dickson set the bottle of wine on the stone table. “Alvis, find us something to sit on. Curse these tiny bodies, but the countdown has begun. I'll be able to return to my real form soon. And when I do, Lorithia, I'm going to grab you and feel you up – and you won't be able to do anything. Both breasts will fit neatly in one hand. A good handful.” Dickson laughed as he mimed clenching and squeezing with his dirt-crusted hands.

Lorithia smiled. “Try it, and I will cut your balls off first and club you to death with them.”

“Cut them off? They're made of iron, love. Are you honestly going to keep that tiny body? You could have any body you want.”

“My body is perfect, thank you.”

“Well, I won't argue with that. Alvis, what about you? Going to join me as a giant in the new age?”

Alvis had dragged two giant mugs across the table and pushed them onto their sides so that the handles could be used as seats. “I'm a Homs.” He positioned a spoon next to the mugs.

“No, you're not,” said Dickson. “I don't know what the fuck you are but you are not a Homs. The Homs weren't even here when Lord Zanza introduced you. And what the heck have you found? Grubby mugs and a _spoon_? You really expect us to sit on these?”

“Options suitable for frames as small as ours are limited. The floor is also an option if you are dissatisfied by the alternatives.”

“Find a table as well,” said Dickson. “We need something to put the wine on.”

  
Alvis disappeared again.

“How come he listens to you?” Lorithia mumbled, dusting one of the handles before sitting.

“Because I'm asking him to find furniture, which is different to trying to fuck him. It's quite obvious what you're after and I've told you before – you're wasting your time. Does it annoy you that there's someone you can't wrap around your beautiful little finger? I'm not wrapped around your finger either and you never try to sleep with me. I'm hurt.”

“Shut up.”

Alvis came back with a giant basket. He turned it upside down and set it in the middle of the two mugs.

“Glasses!” Dickson demanded.

Alvis started to climb down from the table again. Lorithia covered her mouth to hide the snigger as Dickson rolled his eyes. “I'm joking,” snapped Dickson. “What the heck do you think you're going to find that's suitable for midgets like us to drink out of in this place? You're like a bloody automaton doing what you're told all the time. Sit down.”

Alvis sat on the spoon and folded his hands in his lap.

Dickson pulled three metal cups from his bag and handed them out, but Lorithia inspected hers carefully. “Want me to lick it clean for ya?” asked Dickson.

Lorithia wiped it with her hand to check there was nothing suspicious smeared on the inside. It wouldn't be the first time he'd laced it with something he'd claimed would 'warm her up' and make things more 'interesting'. This time, however, the cup seemed clean. She held it out. “Arglas's wine.”

“Pour me a drink, please, Dickson, you magnificently handsome man,” Dickson corrected.

She sighed. “Just pour me a drink and tell me about the vessel. And yes, on this one occasion I will compliment you. I had no idea any of this wine still existed and the High Entia just can't get the same refined taste.”

Dickson poured Lorithia's drink first, and then his own, followed by Alvis's. Alvis also checked his cup carefully before allowing it to be filled. Lorithia tried not to smile as she remembered the time Dickson had smeared Alvis’s cup with red pollen juice.

Dickson grinned as he raised his cup. “A toast to the arrival of the vessel!”

Lorithia raised her cup and then sipped gently. She smiled. The High Entia really couldn't replicate this taste. Dickson occasionally brought wine from the Homs colonies, but they were no better, despite what Dickson claimed. She'd drank this same wine when she'd first joined Lord Zanza. Back then, there had been celebrations every evening. The High Entia had forgotten their origins, but the giants had worshipped their God. Lorithia had been welcomed. She'd known she was his favourite – the only High Entia that had rediscovered and appreciated her origins.

And then Lord Zanza had introduced Alvis. Who was allowed to follow Lord Zanza everywhere – even the places Lorithia and Dickson were not permitted.

Alvis stared at the cup in his hands. Wine made by Lord Zanza’s own winemaker – and Alvis just gazed at it with his dead eyes, looking bored.

“Alvis... that's good stuff and it's in your cup now,” said Lorithia. “Don't let it go to waste.”

“I'm still on duty tonight. It's inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate? What would Lord Zanza say to that?” said Dickson.

“Zanza would not be concerned whether I drink or not.”

“ _Lord_ Zanza,” Lorithia corrected. “Alvis, don't forget your place. You always neglect to include his title.”

“Zanza is not concerned.”

“Lord-”

“Oh shut up,” said Dickson. “Why is having a party with you two like having a picnic on Valak Mountain? You're souring the wine!”

“Then let's talk about the vessel,” said Lorithia. “Tell me the details.”

“Some Homs set out to find Ose Tower,” said Dickson, as he poured himself a second cup of wine. “I only found out about it after they left so I went after them. I didn't think they'd actually find it, but they did. When I got there, they were all dead. It was obviously Lord Zanza – I could feel it in the air. I took the boy back to Colony 9. It's the safest colony. Mechon can only approach from the air and they have some decent air-batteries.”

“Why a child?” asked Lorithia.

“The boy was revealed in a vision,” said Alvis. “The why is insignificant.”

“I believe it is a sign to us,” said Dickson. “We have a child and we can mold him. I need to make sure that body is strong enough to fight. When he's matured, Lord Zanza will return to us and the new age will begin. It's good timing. The Homs have popped up everywhere. And then there's the mechon. Egil continues to build himself an army. Bastard doesn't know when he's beat. But the attacks are increasing. Lord Zanza needs the Homs as a food source. I don't think he'd be pleased if we let Egil wipe out that source.”

“The High Entia are not keen to get involved in the fight,” said Lorithia.

“I recommend against it for now,” said Dickson. “If the Homs get wiped out, at least we'll still have the telethia.”

“We should use the Monado,” said Alvis.

“Use his sword? Blasphemy!” said Lorithia.

“Zanza left it as a physical weapon. It has the power to defeat mechon. Homs weapons – and even those made by the High Entia – struggle to cut through mechon armour. The Monado will not function well when wielded by anyone other than Zanza, but if we are talking about biding time and preventing Egil from wiping out life, then it can be used crudely. It will exact heavy damage on the user, however – potentially killing them.”

Dickson seemed to think for a moment before grinning. “Colony 9 has some exceptional soldiers and good training programs. I bet I can find us a sacrifice for the Monado. What a barbaric idea, Alvis. I like it. See, he's good for something, Lorithia. He has nasty plans in his soft-looking head.” Dickson leaned over and clamped an arm around Alvis's shoulders, giving him a friendly thump – hard enough to almost knock Alvis from the spoon.

“I do what is necessary for the world,” said Alvis. “Egil should be admired for challenging a god but ultimately he can never escape Zanza's vision for the world.”

“Admired? Metal bastard doesn't know when to quit. Should stay and rot on that junk pile.” Dickson laughed before noting that Alvis still hadn't drank any of the wine. “Why are you not drinking? Get it down you.”

“I-”

“Alvis. Drink it.”

Alvis placed the cup to his lips and drank the entire contents in one go.

Lorithia was a little impressed – though she wouldn't admit it. Giants' wine was not known for its mildness.

Dickson raised an eyebrow. “You'll feel that in the morning, Alvis.” He grinned as he poured Alvis another cup each. “Next one. Be a good boy and drink it all down.”

“I fail to understand why this is necessary. This is quite potent and even small quantities will significantly impede-”

“Alvis! Drink it.”

Alvis drank it – again, down in one. When was the last time they had drank together? Alvis had been present at most of the giants' celebrations, but Lorithia didn't remember ever seeing him actually drink anything, so this could be interesting to watch...

She sipper her wine, savouring the rich taste and fruity scent. “What happens now with the vessel?” she asked. “It will need protecting from Egil.”

“Broody?” asked Dickson.

“It would be a tremendous honour to care for his vessel, but since it is a Homs I'll defer to you for the rearing, Dickson.”

“I have my duties here, but I could easily pass him off as an apprentice,” said Alvis.

“Dickson waved a hand. “You? Not a chance. This vessel needs to be raised with muscle. I'll teach him to fight.”

  
“The Homs will be attacked by mechon, which puts the vessel in danger.”

“Mitts off, Alvis. Let someone else win favour for once.”

Alvis closed his eyes. “As you wish.”

“Know your place. Lorithia and I are the two main disciples and you're like a pet. Like a cat. You'd look cute with cat ears, Alvis.”

“How much have you drank, Dickson?” asked Lorithia.

“Not enough!” Dickson cackled as he poured himself another cup, filling it to the brim. “Alvis! Drink yours so I can pour you another! Drink it!”

Alvis did as he was told.

Lorithia tapped a finger against the side of her cup. “Why do you obey Dickson and not me?”

“You're just not being firm enough, Lorithia. Lord Zanza said he obeys anything reasonable. Although he's definitely got a mutinous gleam lately, don't you think? Ignores me a lot of the time actually.”

“Bit of a nasty attitude at times too,” Lorithia agreed.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I copy the behaviour of those around me,” said Alvis.

“Then copy this.” Dickson poured Alvis another large cup of wine and then held his own cup to his mouth. He tilted his head back, as if drinking the wine in one gulp, but Lorithia spotted that Dickson didn't actually drink it.

Alvis did though. He swallowed. And then swallowed a second time before licking his lips. Dickson grinned as he poured him another cup.

“I'm slightly upset he gets more of this wine than I do,” said Lorithia, while using her cup to conceal her smirk from Alvis.

“Then you need to follow his example and drink faster.”

“It's supposed to be savoured. Not downed so crudely.”

“Ignore her, Alvis. You're doing it exactly right. Cup is nice and full again – off you go.”

“I hope you have another bottle?” said Lorithia, as Alvis downed another cup. The giant bottle on the makeshift table was definitely empty. And, disappointingly, Alvis was still sitting upright on the spoon without even a quiver.

“Of course.” Dickson pulled another bottle from his bag. “I came prepared. We've got three. One each. Though Alvis has already drunk most of a whole bottle to himself, but I'll give him some more because I want to see how much more he can take.” Dickson slapped Alvis on the back. When Alvis didn't react, he slapped him again. “Not as pathetic as you look are you, eh?” He filled Alvis's cup again. “Drink!”

Alvis drank the wine and then stared at the wall. Lorithia looked behind her to see if he was staring at anything in particular. But he seemed to be staring at nothing. Maybe it was starting to have an effect...

She cleared her throat to disguise the laugh and then gestured for Dickson to refill her cup. “While we are together, there is another issue we should discuss: the High Entia Royal bloodline. I don't understand how they discovered it, but they have been experimenting with different genetic codes and are now intentionally watering the Royal bloodline down. It's almost as if they understand the fate of a High Entia.” She glared at Alvis.

“You told them?” Dickson asked Alvis.

“Did I?” asked Alvis vaguely.

“You either did or you didn't.”

“You recommended the second consort, Alvis,” said Lorithia.

“Oh. That.” Alvis blinked a few times.

Lorithia exchanged a look with the grinning Dickson. “More wine, Alvis?” asked Dickson as he waved the bottle.

“No,” said Alvis.

Dickson filled the cup anyway – because Alvis wasn't fast enough to stop him.

“I know you warned them about the transformation, Alvis,” said Lorithia.

“They already discovered the genetics, so I gave them my advice,” said Alvis. “I must maintain my position as Divine Seer. My job is to serve the Royal Family. ”

“You _pander_ to the Royal Family.”

“As do you – and particularly Kallian, I've noted.”

“ _As do you!”_

Dickson laughed. “Alvis! You're fantastic after a bottle of wine! You've pissed her off so much! Look at her face! Lorithia, chill out. So they figured it out. The High Entia have been poking about for ages, but it's not as if they can actually achieve much. A small number will escape becoming telethia. The rest are ours.” He drank his wine. “Alvis, drink up too.”

Alvis looked as if he might rebel for a second, but he still drank. Lorithia watched closely, but he seemed perfectly coordinated.

Lorithia sighed. “Don't give him anymore. It's a waste of your time. Or if you do, it comes out of your bottle and not mine.”

Alvis placed his cup on the table. “There is no need for more wine. Is there anything else we need to discuss? If not, I will leave to return to my duties.”

“I want a vision from you before you go,” said Dickson. “Do your little seer ceremony. Tell me what the vessel is going to be like when he grows up a bit.”

“And ruin the surprise?”

“Just a peek.”

“I've just drank seven glasses of giants' wine. No. Thank you.”

“Are you actually drunk?”

“No.”

Lorithia and Dickson stared as Alvis carefully climbed from the giant table. And then fell down the banquet hall stairs.

“Yes. Victory,” said Dickson as he lit a cigar.

Lorithia smiled as she held her cup out for a refill. “I've waited a long time to see that,” she said. “Just a shame he didn't break his pretty little neck.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found this scribbled in a notebook and decided it needed to be put online. These three were a lot of fun to write so I might do some more with them.


End file.
